Just A 'Lil Scotch
by WeAreCanon
Summary: Bobby gets extremely stressed and drinks a little something heavier then he's used too.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N) Hello there! This is just a little fluff-ish thing Between Bobby and Crowley we wrote. **

**I am Bobby, and Skykes is Crowley. We're both the other characters**

**Anyway, please enjoy! ~AidaMae**

* * *

Crowley was feeling a bit bored one day, and decided to pay a visit to his favorite Hunter, Bobby Singer. When he appeared in his house, he found him cooking in his kitchen. "Cooking. One of the more manly tasks of life, wouldn't you agree?" he piped from his spot in the doorway. The unexpected visitor caused Bobby to jump ever so slightly before turning around.

"Damn it Crowley. What the hell?" Bobby snapped, turning back to his poorly cooked tomato soup.

"Just thought I'd pop in for a visit," the demon commented, glancing around the kitchen for demon traps before stepping into it. "Hope you don't mind. Not that I care either way." He gave the hunter a cheeky grin and walked up next to him. "Mind if I ask what you are making?"

"Do you even know what personal space means?" Bobby said, rapidly getting ticked. "But if you must know, spaghetti." As he turned the stove off and went to the pantry to get some pasta.

"Of course I know about personal space," Crowley muttered with a slightly distasteful look. "But I've never found it to benefit me." He glanced at the sauce, his face still contorted in discomfort. "It smells lovely, but I don't think I'll be staying for dinner. Don't much care for anything salty." This caused the hunter to choke out a laugh.

"Gee, wonder why. Then what was the point of coming anyway." Bobby said, moving the pasta to a strainer, then facing the demon.

With a roll of his eyes, Crowley backed away from the stove. "What, I'm not allowed to say hello anymore?" he asked with sarcastic smugness. He shrugged, his eyes once more turning to examine the room.

"Not unless it benefits you. So what's the deal?" Bobby asked, not taking his eyes off the wandering demon.

"You got me," Crowley held his hands up in mock surrender. "I was bored, honestly. Wanted to get out of that damned hole, I think you can imagine how terribly annoying it all is down there." He lowered his hands and stuffed them into his pockets.

"Well if that's the case, you aren't welcome here. Go bother some other poor sap." Bobby barked, as he grabbed a plate of pasta and moved down into a chair to eat. He waited a while longer, but realized the King Of Hell is going nowhere. "Are you waiting for me to personally kick you out?" The hunter sassed as he kept eating.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a terrible host?" Crowley tsked and grabbed the back of a chair. "May I?" he asked, pulling the chair out and sitting in it despite Bobby's clear disapproval.

"Coming from the terrible guest." Bobby snapped back. Even as the demon sat down he rolled his eyes. "Can I get you anything?" Bobby said in a mocking house wife voice.

"Ah, yes, I'll have a scotch, you know my brand." Crowley smirked as Bobby's expression grew more annoyed.

"Then get it yourself. I ain't your bitch." Snarled Bobby, ready to just strangle the thing next to him.

"Ah, well, the scotch can wait, I suppose." Crowley shrugged, then reached his hands up to rest on the table. "So, Bobby, what's new in your life?"

"At this point? Might kill Hades." He growled, getting up to clean his plate. "Damn it Crowley, its been a long day. Can't you just, go back to hell or something?" Bobby sighed getting more and more irritated.

A flicker of concern crossed the demon's face, gone as quickly as it had appeared so that Bobby was completely unaware of it. "Long day, eh? I know what that's like, you know, being the King of Hell and all." He sighed and stood up, his palms flat against the table to help him up. "Well, I guess I'll be going then. Take care," he turned to leave, "Or, you know, don't. Whatever suits your fancy." And with that, the King of Hell disappeared from Bobby's kitchen.

The next day Bobby woke up on his couch with a book over his stomach. As he sat up he felt a sharp pain in his forehead. _The hell? Oh right._ He sighed as he remembered drinking some heavy vodka after his previous day and unexpected visitor. He slowly got up, making his way back to the kitchen for some Advil. Once his headache began to lessen one of his many phones stated ringing.

"Hello?" Bobby answered, his throat dry and sore.

"You know, water helps with hangovers," came a smug English voice from the other end. "And before you ask how I knew you were hungover... Well, it's not important." Before Bobby could reply, the demon appeared in the room. "Phones are such a waist of electricity," he said distastefully. Bobby stood there, blinking, wrapping his head around things, before giving a disapproving pout.

"Balls." He murmured. "The hell are you doing here so god damn early?" Bobby asked, before sitting down at his kitchen table, rubbing his temples.

Crowley pulled a glass out of a cupboard and filled it with water before setting it down in front of Bobby. "Apparently helping you recover from a hangover." He pulled out a chair and leaned back, propping his feet on the table. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you were so worked up yesterday?" The demon did his best to hide any signs of sympathy or worry from his voice, keeping his face locked in a slight smug smirk that was a little too unwavering. Bobby took the water carefully and began taking small sips.

"Depends. What's with the sudden interest?" Bobby asked, becoming more and more curious. "Its not in your blood to worry, unless you get something out of it." Bobby asked with another sip of water.

"Maybe I am worried," Crowley challenged, his eye twitching slightly, though he showed no other signs of caring. "Or maybe it's curiosity." He shrugged. Bobby studied the demon a while longer.

"Well... if you must know, its Sam and his hallucinations. There, happy?" Bobby growled, finishing off his water. He got up and went to grab another beer.

"I see..." Crowley watched Bobby with apparently mild interest. "And where is old Sammy boy right now, if I may ask?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. Dean called sometime during the day, asking if he know where Sam was. So now I've been trying every place where he could be, but I got nothing." Bobby sighed, gulping down the cold ice beer.

"Well..." The demon's gaze wandered to the wall, as his eyes became thoughtful. "I could help."

"Oh really now? And you'll be willing to just, help?" Bobby asked, curiosity peaked to the top on why the demon's behavior has been so off.

Crowley shrugged. "Maybe just this once. I owe it to you for not trying to kill me again when you saw me yesterday, now don't I?" His eyes returned to Bobby, a slight dry smirk resting on his lips. "It shouldn't be too hard, even with that thing on his ribs. Not for the King of Hell."

"Right... so what's the deal?" Bobby asked, and raising his eye brow. "I don't believe you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart." He snarled, finishing the last few drops of his beer.

Crowley held up his hands. "No deal," he said with dead seriousness. "I'll find your Sammy and drag him back here, it shouldn't take more than an hour, and I want nothing in return. Though, I must say I am enjoying not having to fend for my life every time I see you."

"Nothing. You mean to tell me, the all famous Crossroads Demon, wants nothing?" Bobby said, folding his arms in front of his chest. "I wish I could believe that. So tell me, what are you really after?"

Crowley sighed and brought his hand to his temple, cloaing his eyes. "Fine. If there must be a deal, I want..." He opened his eyes again and continued, "I want you lot to stop trying to kill me."

"Right that's just gonna happen. Especially after stealing my soul, we're just, not gonna hate you anymore." Bobby took a breath. He looked around the room, thinking to himself before facing back to the demon. "Do you really think, I'm that stupid? I know there's a deeper meaning, tell me it and maybe I'll make a deal with you." He added the last part before he could think, instantly causing himself to cuss in his head.

The question caught Crowley slightly off guard, and he mentally had to scramble for an answer. "Maybe I'm a better person than you think I am," he replied hastily. "Anyway, I don't need your permission to find Sam, as far as I know. So I'll be off now." Before he could say anything to make a fool of himself, the King of Hell disappeared once more.


	2. Chapter 2

After a few hours, Crowley showed up back at the kitchen. Just him, and no Sam. "You're missing a person." Bobby, whom was facing his stove cooking some ravioli, stated. Completely unsurprised by this fact.

"There were complications," the demon grumbled. "I don't suppose you tried asking your buddy, Cas, where Sam is? He seemed to have a fairly clear idea of the location." The King of Hell straightened his jacket and brushed some soot off of his shoulder.

That question caused Bobby to stiffen. "Well if you can't find him, I'm sure as hell Cas won't." He grumbled, getting another beer from his fridge. "I know its not your brand, but want one?" He asked, offering a second bottle.

Crowley snatched the bottle and took a swig, frowning distastefully at it. "I wouldn't be so sure. He stopped me shortly before I got to where I believe Sam may be. Did I mention Castiel hates me?" He took another unpleasant drink of his beer and shook his head. "I was so close."

"Wow, didn't think this would bother such a heartless monster." Bobby smirked, taking another sip. "As for Cas... we believe that Sam asked for his help, didn't think you'd actually find him to be honest." Bobby started drifting off before coming back and realized the ruffled cloth on Crowley's shoulder. Once again, his mind not thinking. "You guys fought? Damn... sorry." He mumbled the last bit.

Crowley shook his head again, his eyes avoiding Bobby as he took yet another drink of his beer. "It was pretty one-sided," he grumbled. "And heartless monster, really?" His gaze finally snapped to the old hunter, his expression irritated and slightly offended. "I just tried to save a bloody hunter who has tried to kill me multiple times, and you have the nerve to-!" He cut himself off with an angry sigh and glared at the kitchen floor. "You can find Sam on your bloody own, I'm done trying to help you, Singer." He set his beer on the counter before he disappeared again, leaving the room smelling strongly of sulfur.

"Way to go Bobby, you hurt his feelings." Dean smirked as we walked into the room.

"Creep much?" Bobby retaliated. Which in turn caused Dean to frown. "What, do you want me to apologize?" Dean gave another look. "Are you kidding me?"

"Nope, so have fun with that." He gave a cheeky grin and left.

"Balls." Bobby thought it was stupid to having to apologize. "Why the hell should I... damn it Dean." He took a deep breath a mumbled, a 'I'm sorry.'

Crowley reappeared a few feet away from Bobby, his face written with confusion and disbelief. "Excuse me?"

Bobby stared at him, with a complete sincere look. "I'm... sorry." He choked over saying the words. "I didn't mean to call you out. Its been pretty damn stressful these past days. Thank you for trying to help find Sam." He felt himself mentally slapping himself for thanking and apologizing to a demon.

Crowley, still looking surprised and slightly disbelieving, managed, "Well... No harm done. I don't suppose you're doing this out of the good of your heart, rather than to get me to help you find Sam, am I wrong?"

This time it was Bobby who looked surprised. "I'll have you know Dean already located Sam and got to him as you were fighting Cas... sorry about that too, that wasn't really planned." Bobby looked away for second, feeling slightly like an old teddy bear. "So yes, Crowley, believe it or not. I am, from the bottom of my heart, sorry." Bobby said feeling sick to his stomach.

"Well, uh..." There was a silence from Crowley that lasted a moment, before managed. "Then apology accepted, and..." He straightened his jacket. "Forgiven." The word was like sand in his mouth, or maybe salt, but he meant it. "Now, unless I am needed for anything more, I guess you'll be wanting your house to yourself again."

Bobby hesitated for a second. "You never finished your drink..." He drifted off, and and went back to sitting down. He wanted to stab himself for not wanting Crowley to go. _What the hell are you thinking Singer. Just shut your trap and let him go on his merry way._

Crowley glanced at the beer bottle sitting on the counter. He did so loathe the drink, though it was a good excuse to stay, so he shrugged and walked over to it, picking it up before turning to Bobby. "You make a valid point." He took another drink and leaned back on the counter.

Bobby could see it now. The 'Smoothest Hunter of the Year' award sitting right as desk. He took a deep sigh, and began rubbing his temples. _Just one day to myself. No demons, hunters, angels, just peace and quiet._ He thought to himself as he went for another drink of his beer.

"Balls." He muttered, finding it empty. Forcing him to get up and become face to face with Crowley.

"So, not to complain, but why the sudden attitude change?" Crowley asked skeptically. "An hour ago you wanted to rip my guts out, and now..." He narrowed his eyes. "You're not trying to get something from me, are you?"

Bobby scoffed, "Yeah, you wish." He rolled his eyes and pushed Crowley out of the way. Once he grabbed another drink he sat back down. He smirked and before he could stop himself he found himself saying, "Unless you have other plans in mind?"

Crowley found himself inexplicably flustered by the words of the hunter. "I don't believe I do," he muttered, pulling himself a chair across the table from Bobby.

Why Bobby found this amusing he hasn't a single clue. He laughed. "Anyone ever tell your fun to mess with you." _Why can't I just shut up? I was only like this a few times, but I was completely drunk... _looking down to his drink he found that his beer was a lot stronger than it should be. _You have got to be kidding me..._

Crowley took another drink, his eyebrows furrowed in a frown. "People generally don't do that, so no," he answered, wrapping both hands around his bottle. "Definitely the first time I've heard that."

"Well gee, I wonder why, you don't normally go around playing with all your clients. Am I just that special?" Bobby just wanted to shoot himself to stop making a fool of himself. He can feel himself reliving his past all over again.

Crowley didn't answer, instead staring at the beer bottle as he utterly failed at finding the words to defend himself. "You wish," was all he could manage.

Bobby, amused with the flustered King, faked being stabbed through the heart. "Ouch, your words wound me so. I mean, your special, I haven't killed you." He started going quiet in the end but he never shook from his smirk.

Crowley finished off his beer quickly. "Very funny," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"Not lying..." Bobby whispered, more sober then he has been and his smirk vanishing for a moment. Once it returned he chugged down the rest of his beer. "You want another one?" He asked, still feeling like an idiot for not wanting Crowley to leave.

Crowley looked at him with confusion. "Yeah, sure, another sounds great..." Bobby was right, of all the demons the hunter had met, the King of Hell was probably the only Bobby had let live. "Tell me, Bobby, what makes me different?"

The hunter snickered at the question. "If I knew, you'd be the first to know." Bobby got up and went to grab some leftover pasta as an afternoon snack. "I think the real question here is; why haven't you left yet?"

"Another excellent question." Crowley took another drink. "Maybe I'm avoiding Hell, maybe some other reason. Can't say I know."

"Well that's complete bull." The hunter finished his meal and was leaning back in his chair. "So tell me, oh mighty King, if avoiding Hell is your true reason, why?"

Crowley shrugged. "Don't know. Do you want me to leave?"

Bobby just stared at Crowley. He didn't want to say yes, but he also didn't want to say no. Instead he just stayed quiet, staring at his drink.

Crowley shifted in his seat. "Thought so," he muttered.

"No, stay... if you want that it is." There he goes again, making a fool of himself. "I don't really care." Bobby was mentally arguing with himself. He would much rather be taking on the Leviathans right now.

The demon shrugged, and leaned back in his chair. "Well, it's not like I have anything better to do."

At this point the hunter was willing to beg to God to sober up, instead he let out a snort. "I can name one thing." He mumbled into his bottle finishing the last sip.

"Oh?" The King of Hell raised a curious eyebrow and tilted his head ever so slightly. "And what might that be?" he asked.

Bobby placed down his bottle and thought for a moment. _Bobby Singer, you shut your mouth and tell that bastartd to go to hell. Literally. _Instead though he felt his lips tugging upward into a smirk. He set his lips to be as straight as possible. "You're looking at him."


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley practically fell out of his chair backwards in surprise. He tried to say something, but instead found himself frowning at the old hunter, his mouth open in his attempt to speak. He finally managed to exclaim, "Excuse me?!"

The old hunter finally let the grin spread across his face. "There is nothing more interesting then making the King of Hell flustered." Bobby leaned back in his chair ever so slightly crossing his arms. "Although, do I really need to repeat myself?"

After staring at the hunter for a good solid minute, the demon relaxed a bit, hiding the confusion on his face and saying matter-of-factly, "You're just messing with me."

Only to have the hunter laugh in response. "You know what they say; The only people who give 100% truth are small children and totally wasted bastards."

"And you're..." Crowley's eyebrows began a slow descent down his face. "You're completely wasted, aren't you?"

"What do you think, you idjit?" Bobby smirked, going for another bottle of beer. Half in fear of sobering up, and the other half of just needing something to get him through the night.

"Bobby, you're... You're dead serious?" The demon, still clearly uncomprehending of what the hunter had said and unsure of his own feelings on the matter.

Bobby rolled his eyes, getting annoyed of having to repeat himself. Can't the demon take a sexual advance when its being shoved down his throat. "Was I being to subtle?" The hunter asked with full sincerity and innocence.

It could practically be seen through his eyes as Crowley considered how to respond, his mind whirling curiously as he thought first of his feelings, then of the logical course of action.

"Clearly," he began slowly. "You're not thinking straight right now. Maybe you should get some sleep, and in the morning we will talk about... That."

"I'll sleep..." The hunter began, a small devious smile slightly appearing on his lips, "If you sleep with me."

Crowley instantly frowned, followed by a look of consideration that lasted meer seconds, before frowning again. "No... Bobby, you're drink off your skunk. You know you'd regret it."

"Are you telling me that? Or yourself?" The hunter asked, in a somewhat sober tone.

"I'm talking about you." Crowley smirked slightly. "I already know how I'd feel." He winked.

This caused the hunter to look straight at the demon. He smiled. "I think you already know my feelings Crowley."

"I think you'll beat yourself up about this in the morning..." The smirk grew across his face. "Then again I never really was a morning person."

The old hunter smiled and got up from the table. He extended his hand and as the demon grabbed it they both walked off to Bobby's room.

The next morning as Sam and Dean drove over to Bobby's house, Dean was ridiculing Sam about his running away act. From the backseat was their favorite little angel, Castiel hoping to understand why Sam ran away in the first place and was forced to fight Crowley.

"Dean, I am not a child, you don't have to go and tell on me to Bobby." Sam growled, seriously annoyed with his older brother.

"If you're not gonna listen to me, maybe Bobby can talk some sense into you, that's all I'm saying." the older hunter replied as they pulled up to the old house.

Dean reached out to push the door open, but was stopped by Cas's hand on his shoulder. "Shouldn't we knock?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "What do you think he's doing? Having a slumber party with Satan?"

Cas gave his usual look of confusion as the three strode into the house, clearly not understanding what he meant by 'slumber party'. They followed the sound of shuffling around to the kitchen, to see the most unexpected of guests standing, in nothing more than underwear in the kitchen, pouring coffee.

"Maybe not Satan, but the next best thing..." Sam mumbled awestrucked. He looked to his brother and the angel. If anything Castiel was more confused then the both of the combined. They were distracted by a noise, only to add more confusion to their minds. As they looked they saw another man, in nothing but his boxers. The man stopped, dead in his tracks.

"Balls!" Bobby shouted, turning back to wear more presentable clothing.

Dean looked between Crowley and Bobby, his face riddled with confusion. "Bobby," he demanded, blinking a few times. "What is going on?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Crowley asked, grabbing two cups of coffee off the table. "We fucked." He walked out of the room with a smug smirk. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the bedroom."

"So..." Castiel shifted on his feet. "This is what it means when you say, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'?"

The whole room looked to Castiel. "What?" He asked, very confused with the strange looks everyone is giving him.

"Cas, that is far from the meaning. When they say keep your enemies close they don't mean sleep with them. Bobby, what the hell were you thinking?" Sam asked, not sure if the expression was completely appropriate at this time.

"'Hell' is exactly what he was thinking, he-" Dean cut himself short, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Man, that's just nasty."

"At least if my sinful acts are with an actual unholy beast, and not an angel of the Lord." Bobby blurted, as Dean just stood there mouth open

"I can assure you that Dean and I have yet to do any sinful acts. If you are referring to the act of intercourse my Father does not think man on man love is wrong." Castiel explained, causing Dean to just turn to a bright crimson red.

"Dean, its not very nice of you to be a hypocrite." Sam smirked, enjoying the attention placed on his brother and his father figure then the original purpose of this trip.

"Oh don't pretend you've got such a clean slate!" Dean said, exasperated. "Isn't Crowley our enemy? Shouldn't we be, I don't know, _ganking him_?"

Bobby took a giant breath. "Dean, since this is your area of expertise don't you know what a one night stand it?" He asked, getting slightly flustered.

"One night stand?" Castiel asked, getting waves of mixed signals from the hunters.

"Shut up, Cas." All three of them chimed in unison. Cas gave his puppy dog face as he looked down trying to understand what's happening.

"Yeah but Crowley? Really? Do you understand how many times that guy has tried to kill us?" Dean didn't appear to he wavering in his opinion. "He's the King of Hell, for Pete's sake!"

"Yes well he's my King." Bobby growled, as the effects of a nasty hangover started to begin. This comment earned a few sick looks from the younger hunters.

"Bobby, while I'm really happy you found someone, please remember this; that same someone took your soul, almost gotten you killed, almost gotten Dean and I killed many times, fought Cas, tried to open Purgatory, and lastly is the King of Hell." Sam said, hoping Bobby will see his mistake before he gets killed or heartbroken.

Dean indicated his agreement with Sam using some strange body montions that mostly looked like flailing, followed by, "You see?"

"So let me get this straight? If Sam were to say, oh I dunno, fall for Lucifer would that be okay?" Bobby asked, getting seriously pissed off. Sam starred at the question but had no comment.

"Uh... _No._" Dean expressed utter befuddlement as he stared at Bobby in confusion, glancing at Sam as if to say, '_You haven't, right?'_

Sam looked back to his brother. '_Uh... no comment?' _Sam answered with another glance, slightly bitting his lip.

Dean rolled his eyes and mumbled a few swears under his breath.

"I believe I understand why Sam is not objected to sleeping with the bad guy." Cas, said, reading Sam and Dean's mind.

"You're kidding me," Dean breathed.

"See, now none of you have a right to ridicule me on my choices. Now if you don't mind, leave the my damn house." Bobby gruffed, mentally begging for the three idjits to leave.

"Dean, he's got a point," Sam said, turning towards the door. "We're... Sorry, Bobby," he said.

"Whatever." Bobby said rolling his eyes, his own way of an apology. The trio walked out the door and drove to who knows where. Bobby walked back to his bedroom, where he found his demon waiting for him. As much as Bobby hated getting way wasted, this time wasn't so bad.


End file.
